Contentment II
“But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content.”
I Timothy 6:8
A man sat in a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin on a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.
Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried by to meet his schedule. A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and, without stopping, continued to walk. A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.
The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tried to hurry him along, but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.
In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, no one recognized him.
No one knew, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best violinists in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.
Two days before playing in the subway, Joshua Bell played violin at a sold out concert at a large theater in Boston where the average seats sold for $100.
This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the Washington D.C. metro station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and the priorities of people. The setting was in a busy subway during rush hour.
Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize creative genius and art in an unexpected context? Do we give ourselves permission to stop, rest and listen?
One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be that if we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing? Are we so busy chasing after our realities that we have no time to listen to the music of life that God is playing all around us?